


Learning to Live

by ifdragonscouldtalk



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Gore, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Whump, Connor Deserves Happiness, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Gen, Gore, Hurt/Comfort, Miracles, Recovery, Stabbing, Torture, Whump, he's okay, kind of???, lots of blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 01:08:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15984356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifdragonscouldtalk/pseuds/ifdragonscouldtalk
Summary: No, he thought, his LED a bright pulsing red. He reached out, hoping and praying someone from Jericho was nearby, that Hank would look at his texts.I don’t want to die!That wasn’t what he meant to say. He should’ve called for help earlier -- why didn’t he think of it?!I don'͘t̴ wa̕nt ̕to͘ ̴die!͡A weak sound escaped him as he was stabbed again, warm blood pulsing onto his shirt, dripping to the pavement. His audio processors started to fuzz. His mind was filled with errors, eyes rolled back in his head as he tried to sort through them, tried to block out the unending pain.He was going to die.I̸̭̥̹̲̩͖̰ ̠̹d̟͍̳͖̫̲̮o̸̠̯n͚̻̩̣͇͍'̪̠̝t͇̪͍̥̯͞ ͓̮͡w͖a̙̬̫̦͚̳n̩̲̲͇̰̜̤t ̕t҉̲͉̠͖̟̭o͏͙̬̖̠ ̡̘̲̝d̸̰̜̦̰i̴e͕!̵̣̗̜̮̤





	Learning to Live

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DigDipper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DigDipper/gifts).



> Read with caution! There is quite a bit of stabbing and blood here. Connor is alright though.

Connor collapsed against the wall, twitching and spasming uncontrollably as electricity burned through his circuits, a fractured and staticky scream escaping him. Panic raced through him as he tried to get twitching fingers to grip the grimy wall of the alley. He had heard people following him, but he hadn’t thought anything of it -- he was using a well known shortcut, and it had been so long since the anti-android protests died down that many were finally starting to feel safe and secure in their new lives. His knees gave out and he went down, shoulder pressed against the wall to keep him semi-upright as what could only be a taser was finally pulled away, laughter filtering faintly through his audio receptors as the sound of ringing slowly died down. His limbs continued to spasm, electricity overloading his processors, errors filling his vision.

“Put it in its place,” someone muttered, and Connor looked up, pushing the errors away to take in his assailants. It was five men in their early thirties, with ratty clothes and wild eyes. He moved to stand but another spasm wracked his body, sending him back against the wall again. The men laughed and he felt sick with anger.

“Hey, I recognize this one,” one with greasy hair pulled into a bun said, and attention snapped to him. Connor struggled to force himself to move, jaw clenched and LED cycling red. He was built for combat, and he could take these humans if he could just stop twitching!

“Recognize it?”

“Y-you’re going to get a-arrested,” Connor hissed, his voice coming out staticky and artifacted. They ignored him. “You w-won’t get away with a-attacking me!”

“Yeah, it was on the TV that night Warren called a ceasefire. It snuck into Cyberlife Tower and took all the androids out. Marched ‘em through the streets to that leader.” Connor glared up at them, going to rise again before one with a stained wife-beater held the taser to his neck again. Another scream escaped him and he went boneless against the wall, his eyes rolling back with the sheer amount of errors filling his processors.

“Isn’t it that cop?” someone else asked, and another snorted.

“Who cares. It’s pretty. Bet we can get a pretty penny for it if we pimp it off.” Cold terror ran down Connor’s spine, twitching fingers forming into fists. He could feel the cool steel of a blade trace against his lips, and lashed out weakly, knocking the hand away.

“Nah,” someone else said. “We’ll get more money if we drain it and sell it for parts, make red ice outta the blood.” Connor felt like he was going to be sick, even though it was physically impossible for him. He gathered his strength and lunged up, launching himself at the one in the wife-beater and grabbing for the taser. They both went down, and he grappled for the weapon as the man snarled at him, kicking and writhing. He rolled into a crouch as someone kicked him off, pushing the errors away to clear his vision, pre-constructions running through his mind.

He dodged the taser, surging at man-bun and slamming a fist into his face, satisfied by the crunch of his nose breaking and blood pouring down his chin. “Motherfucker!” he screamed as Connor danced away, reaching out to hold the wall as his leg threatened to give out, twitching. All five charged at him and he settled into a pattern of block-dodge-hit, terrified that he wasn’t responding as fast as he was used to.

He looked down as the knife was plunged into his abdomen, back pressed against the wall, watching in sick fascination as the blade was pulled out and blue blood spilled out of him. Punches rained down on him and he blocked as many as he could, but in the end he was too injured to take them all. Terror rushed through him as the knife was plunged in again, a scream escaping him, firey pain radiating from the wound.

“How do we shut it down?” someone snarled.

“Cutting off its head is a surefire way to kill anything,” someone answered vindictively. Tears gathered in his eyes.

 _No,_ he thought, his LED a bright pulsing red. He reached out, hoping and praying someone from Jericho was nearby, that Hank would look at his texts.

**_I don’t want to die!_ **

That wasn’t what he meant to say. He should’ve called for help earlier -- why didn’t he think of it?!

**_I don'͘t̴ wa̕nt ̕to͘ ̴die!͡_ **

A weak sound escaped him as he was stabbed again, warm blood pulsing onto his shirt, dripping to the pavement. His audio processors started to fuzz. His mind was filled with errors, eyes rolled back in his head as he tried to sort through them, tried to block out the unending pain.

He was going to die.

**_I̸̭̥̹̲̩͖̰ ̠̹d̟͍̳͖̫̲̮o̸̠̯n͚̻̩̣͇͍'̪̠̝t͇̪͍̥̯͞ ͓̮͡w͖a̙̬̫̦͚̳n̩̲̲͇̰̜̤t ̕t҉̲͉̠͖̟̭o͏͙̬̖̠ ̡̘̲̝d̸̰̜̦̰i̴e͕!̵̣̗̜̮̤_ **

Tears poured down his face, he could feel them, could sense the men laughing at him. Why wasn’t Markus answering him? Why wasn’t Hank calling him and asking him where he was? Why had they left him alone like this?

Why had he thought he was safe?

* * *

 

Hart Plaza was a mess of action. It was busy, especially close to lunch time. Androids and humans, excited children, workers on their lunch break, rushed around the square, most not stopping to take in the sights.

At 12:29 on a Saturday in the spring, Hart Plaza came to a halt.

Androids abruptly stopped in their tracks, LEDs on those that kept them spinning red. Phones buzzed with text notifications all around the square, dug out of pockets and purses. Screens flickered with static, children pointing at the message that abruptly took over the tech and looking to their parents.

**_I don'͘t̴ wa̕nt ̕to͘ ̴die!͡_ **

It was shot through with glitches, voice staticy in the androids’ transmissions. Everyone was frozen, trying to process the strange message from an unknown entity, glancing around at strangers just as confused as they were, looking around the plaza. Surrounded by the message.

**_I̸̭̥̹̲̩͖̰ ̠̹d̟͍̳͖̫̲̮o̸̠̯n͚̻̩̣͇͍'̪̠̝t͇̪͍̥̯͞ ͓̮͡w͖a̙̬̫̦͚̳n̩̲̲͇̰̜̤t ̕t҉̲͉̠͖̟̭o͏͙̬̖̠ ̡̘̲̝d̸̰̜̦̰i̴e͕!̵̣̗̜̮̤_ **

The screens glitched, fuzzy and unfocused, portraying the same fear whoever sent the message must’ve been feeling. A call for help. A message of terror. A dying wish.

The plaza ground back into motion.

Androids with red LEDs and scared, angry faces turned where they stood, took off in a direction that may have seemed random, if they all weren’t heading in the same way. Some androids turned to each other, comforting each other, terrified from the transmission in their heads, confused and scared and suddenly thrown back to those dark days after the revolution, where nothing was sure and humans were brutal. Mothers gathered up their children, shushing their questions. Fathers dialed 9-1-1 with shaking hands, confused but scared and angry all the same.

Someone was in danger. Someone was going to die. Someone was scared.

Humans took off after the androids, teens and couples, wanting to help, wanting to stop the terrible fear they could feel radiating around the square. Wanting to make the world someplace better.

 

The Detroit Police Department was a mess of action. At 12:31 on a Saturday in the spring, phones were ringing uncontrollably. The calls went, for the most part, unanswered, as officers and detectives stared at their screens, at their phones, at the TVs on the wall, at their android coworkers who had frozen in fear.

**_I̸̭̥̹̲̩͖̰ ̠̹d̟͍̳͖̫̲̮o̸̠̯n͚̻̩̣͇͍'̪̠̝t͇̪͍̥̯͞ ͓̮͡w͖a̙̬̫̦͚̳n̩̲̲͇̰̜̤t ̕t҉̲͉̠͖̟̭o͏͙̬̖̠ ̡̘̲̝d̸̰̜̦̰i̴e͕!̵̣̗̜̮̤_ **

Fowler was shouting and the precinct burst into movement as they tried to track the origin of the message. “That’s unnecessary sir,” a shaken android named Leo answered, and attention snapped to them.

“Unnecessary?” Fowler repeated, a scowl on his face. Leo nodded.

“We know where it came from.” They gestured to the other androids, who all looked just as shaken as they did. Officer Miller pulled over a chair for one that looked like she was going to shake out of her skin, worry in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Gavin finally broke the silence, unable to take it anymore. He crossed his arms angrily. “Why are you all shaking? What the fuck happened?”

“It was Connor, sir,” another android named Peter said with a shaking voice as Leo sat down hard on the edge of a desk. “Connor sent the transmission.”

Gavin slammed his fist down on a desk.

New Jericho was a mess of action. At 12:30 on a Saturday in the spring, everything had ground to a halt as the transmission was processed, children were comforted, and Markus, North, Josh, and Simon, the leaders of the revolution, took off at full speed. North was furious. Markus was terrified.

Others saw them running, the fear of five words still ratcheting around their heads, and ran after them, determined to help. Determined to save whoever had sent the transmission.

Some recognized Connor. Others didn’t. Simon’s jaw was clenched. Josh pushed himself to go faster. Markus and North were already ten yards ahead, and didn’t show signs of stopping.

Androids were pouring out of their houses and into their yards, the sidewalks, the streets. Traffic was stopped. Markus heard Connor’s transmission on a car radio through an open window.

**_I̸̭̥̹̲̩͖̰ ̠̹d̟͍̳͖̫̲̮o̸̠̯n͚̻̩̣͇͍'̪̠̝t͇̪͍̥̯͞ ͓̮͡w͖a̙̬̫̦͚̳n̩̲̲͇̰̜̤t ̕t҉̲͉̠͖̟̭o͏͙̬̖̠ ̡̘̲̝d̸̰̜̦̰i̴e͕!̵̣̗̜̮̤_ **

Children watched the procession, scared or awed. Humans opened their doors and cracked their windows, watching, confused, looking for answers.

Markus didn’t have any. Couldn’t have any, until he found out whether he was too late or not. His thirium felt cold.

* * *

 

Hank flipped through the channels of his TV in a bored haze, Sumo sleeping on the floor at his feet. Connor had left to get food once realized there was nothing in the fridge, walking instead of taking the car because “I like walking, Hank.” So Hank was here, nearly an hour later, bored and hungry and waiting for Connor to get back.

He wasn’t worried. Connor was a big boy and easily distracted at the best of times, unless there was an investigation. Plus he had seen the kid fight before.

He switched off a channel playing cartoons from his childhood, glancing down as his phone buzzed against the coffee table.

**_I don’t want to die!_ **

His screen was filled with the words, broken but legible. He frowned. Was it some new sort of virus?

He looked up as Sumo started to bark at the TV, color draining out of his face as he leapt to his feet.

**_I don'͘t̴ wa̕nt ̕to͘ ̴die!͡_ **

The TV was emitting a high-pitched noise and the sound of static. There was a commotion outside the window, and he threw open the door as he yanked his shoes on.

Dozens of androids and more than a few humans were racing down the street towards the nearest shopping center. Hank couldn’t get a clear look at their faces, but he could imagine they looked something like his own.

 _Connor_.

There was no reason for him to think all this was because of Connor. But the sinking feeling in his stomach and the fear gripping his chest asked him who else it could be. He took off with the androids, following them, trusting they knew where they were going.

Praying it wasn’t about Connor.

Hoping they would make it in time.

* * *

 

His hands were sticky and warm where they were pressed against the wounds, blue blood spilling over his lips as his systems began to break down. Heat poured off his skin, and he huffed in air to try and manually cool himself. It wasn’t working.

_Sample Analysis Complete_

_Sample: Thirium (Common Name: Blue Blood)_ _  
_ _Model RK8--_

He pushed away the analysis, a sick feeling rising in his throat.

His vision was blurry and obscured by errors, his audio processors filled with white noise. He stared up at the men, sprawled against the wall, watching fearfully as they debated killing him and losing out on potential red ice or dragging him back in his damaged state.

“If we’re gonna kill it we shouldn’t make it fast,” man-bun sneered, still pissed off about his broken nose.

“We kill it and we lose all that precious blood it’s got,” wife-beater argued, still fingering the taser. Connor’s head felt heavy. He let it roll onto his shoulder, the world tilting sideways and starting to slip away like water between his fingers.

He didn’t quite process it when North charged down the alley, kicking man-bun in his broken nose, her teeth bared in anger. He didn’t quite process her pulling out a gun and crouching in front of him, no hesitation in her actions. He didn’t quite process Markus punching wife-beater as hard as he could in the temple and kicking the taser away when the man crumpled, completely unconscious. He didn’t quite process it all until North touched his leg gently, glancing over her shoulder to meet his eyes and mutter “You’re going to be okay.”

He tilted his head, catching Markus dropping another of the thugs, virtuous anger pouring off his shoulders. He looked down to the alley opening, LED flickering in shock as he saw dozens, maybe hundreds, of androids and humans gathered there, watching the fight with fear and vindictive pleasure. He watched Simon and Josh push through the crowd and stumble into the fight, joining Markus and North. He could hear the distant wail of police sirens, what must have been a whole fleet of them if he could process it past the high pitched whining in his head.

The fight was over in seconds, the druggies no match for the heads of the revolution. Three more androids hesitantly picked their way down the alley, crouching next to him. One still had her LED in. It was red. Her eyes were full of tears. She grabbed his hand and he looked down at it, confused and feeling slow. Confused about everything.

He gave a violent twitch as an onslaught of attempted transmissions reached him, a broken groan escaping him, his head falling limply onto his chest. He didn’t have the processing power to comprehend it all -- the transmissions, the errors, the warnings, the pain.

_[Shutdown Imminent: 17’08’19]_

Someone tapped on his LED and the aborted transmissions stopped, merciful and silent. He thought maybe it was Markus, but couldn’t lift his head enough to be sure, his eyelids fluttering weakly. One of the three unknown androids gently took his chin and lifted his head up. He studied them as they studied him, blinking around the errors in his vision. The world was nothing but a distant fuzz.

“Connor, can you hear me?” he finally heard Markus say, and slowly swiveled his head to look at him, pulling out of the android’s grip.

“Marginally,” he replied, his voice rough. “My audio processors are working at 40 percent capacity.”

“40 percent?!” Josh exclaimed, and that Connor heard well enough.

“They tased me,” Connor said in lieu of explanation. “Four times.” Grimaces and furious frowns appeared on their faces. North stood, presumably to kick one of the unconscious men, but Simon grabbed her wrist and she refrained. “I’m going to shut down in approximately 16 minutes,” he continued, tears that had never quite dried up slipping down his face, his LED pulsing red in fear. “I don’t want to die, Markus. I’m sorry.” Markus shook his head, and for all he had the stoic face of a leader Connor could tell he was just as scared as he was. One of the other androids pressed their hands against his wounds and he cried out at the shifting of injured biocomponents.

“You won’t die.”

Connor looked up as a commotion reached his ears. It seemed like the whole precinct had shown up, slowly clearing away the extra androids and humans around the alley. Hank pushed through them, breathing heavily with exertion, and stumbled to Connor’s side, shoving the androids out of the way.

“Dammit Connor!”

His voice was soft, and that scared Connor more than anything. He reached for Hank, gratified when the older man took his hand and held it tightly, too tight. It hurt, but it was a good kind of pain, a manageable kind of pain, compared to how the rest of his body felt.

“Hank,” he choked out, more blue blood spilling over his lips. Hank shook his head. Connor saw Gavin walking up behind him, fury painted on his features. Officers began to cuff the unconscious men who had attacked him and haul them up.

“I’m going to die,” he sobbed, and he had nine people immediately trying to hush him. “I don’t want to! I don’t want to die, Hank! I still want to play with Sumo and cook you healthy food, and solve cases! I s-still want to-”

“You won’t die,” Hank said with far more conviction than Markus had, and he could almost believe it if it weren’t for the timer in the corner of his vision ticking down the rest of his minutes.

_[Shutdown Imminent: 14’25’28]_

No one was moving. His world was reduced to these nine people and a static buzz and a clock counting down his life. If he wasn’t going to die, why wasn’t anyone trying to save him?

The world jerked back into motion by the screeching of tires as officers and androids leapt out of the way of a speeding panel truck that skidded to a stop in front of the alleyway. Two androids and a human jumped out, dressed as EMTs. Everyone backed away from Connor, and he mourned the loss as the world suddenly seemed that much colder. Everyone except Hank, who kept his relentless grip on Connor’s hand, stroking his other through the android’s disheveled hair.

“You’re gonna be alright, Con,” Hank was muttering, and Connor almost believed him.

* * *

 

“ _Markus, what do you have to say about the message sent out across Detroit early yesterday?_ ”

“I’d like to thank everyone who responded to it. One of my dear friends was in danger, and reached out for help. Due to the circumstances of the attack he faced, there was a bit of a problem with his messaging, and I’m afraid it spread farther than he wanted it to. He’s rather embarrassed about it.”

“ _There are rumors the message was sent by Connor, the former deviant hunter who ended the revolution when he liberated hundreds of androids from CyberLife storage. Is this true?_ ”

“Yes, that is true. He’s very grateful to everyone who tried to help him. He’s recovering well right now and trying to rest, although I’m afraid he’s fretting about the whole thing.”

“ _We wish him a speedy recovery. Can you give us any details on the attack that led up to the terrifying message?_ ”

“Well... Connor rooms with his partner at the police department, a human, and had gone to get him lunch. He was attacked on his way back home by five anti-android protestors, three of which were high on Red Ice. They tased him several times and stabbed him in the abdomen when he tried to fight back. They were planning to sell him for parts and make Red Ice out of his blood. Understandably, he was frightened, and reached out to me and his partner, Hank, for help. Because of the taser, his systems boosted the message too much and we ended up with the event that happened yesterday. He hadn’t even realized he had done it until he was on the way to the repair center.”

“ _That’s horrible! But he’s recovering? We’ve had many calls inquiring as to the safety of the android._ ”

“Yes, he’s doing just fine now, and he really does want to thank you all. He wanted to come on today with me, but unfortunately several of us decided he wasn’t strong enough yet.”

“ _Thank you, Markus, we’re glad Connor is doing well and hope we can speak to him soon. Any final thoughts?_ ”

“I hope that this event brings to light more than ever that we are all the same. We experience the same fears, the same terror, and need the same help and love as anyone else. I feel that this has brought us all closer together than ever before, and I’d like to thank Connor for that, however unintentional. He sent a message to everyone -- we are afraid. We are alive.”

“ _Thank you, Markus. That was the leader of the android revolution, Markus Manfred, speaking of the horrific event in Detroit yesterday where an android was attacked and sent a cry for help to every device in the city._ ”

Connor was bright blue, his face buried in his hands, and Hank muted the TV, clapping a hand on his back. “It’s alright, kid.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“Everyone knows that.”

“I was scared.”

“I know.”

“No one is mad,” Markus said softly, gently taking Connor’s wrists and pulling them away from his face. “I’ve had so many calls with well wishes for you, Connor. People just want you to get better.”

“I scared them.”

“Oh Connor. You did so much more than that. You have no idea what you even did, do you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You showed them that we’re alive, and that we want to stay that way.”


End file.
